


I Got Soul (But I'm Not A Soldier)

by brightsee



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Protective Natasha Romanov, friendship/partnership, nat stands up for clint, underlying relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-02
Updated: 2014-09-02
Packaged: 2018-02-15 20:00:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2241591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brightsee/pseuds/brightsee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Natasha stands up for Clint when she hears agents talking about him after a failed mission.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Got Soul (But I'm Not A Soldier)

**Author's Note:**

> for shelby, because she wrote something really incredible for me a few days ago. This is my first ever clintasha drabble, so please read with a grain of salt because of my limited knowledge. I hope you enjoy and it's not too out of character or outrageous.

She knows what people say about her. The whispers follow her everywhere she goes. She wears her past out in the open, under the helm of a name given to her decades ago. Assassin, soldier, killer. They roll off her shoulders because that’s who she was not who she is. 

It’s all new age, her ledger dripping and encased in red from countless years under the control of the red room is slowly being wiped clean. She knows her worth, knows that under SHIELD she will never be that person again so let them talk. A glare and twirl of a butterfly knife between her fingers shuts them up. 

She can handle the talk surrounding her, but not when it surrounds her partner. 

She’s walking through a control room, all filled with desk jockeys and their focus primed only on the computer screens in front of their noses. However, the whispers coming from the corner have her trained ears targeting the noise. 

“I heard he killed him in cold blood, without even blinking,” one woman said, coffee mug clasped firmly in her hand. 

“No humanity,” the other woman replied, hand on hip and looking indignant. 

The one with the mug hummed in agreement as she took a sip of her coffee. “No morals either.”

It was a mission that went haywire. He didn’t mean to shoot, they were only there for recon, but things escalated and an arrow that was meant for a threat was sent through the heart of their mark. A nudge of an elbow had his focus lost and his hand slipping, attention momentarily drawn onto the man attacking him. 

It was a simple mistake, one which under the circumstances was not supposed to happen. They weren’t supposed to be ambushed, he wasn’t supposed to need his bow and she wasn’t supposed to be picking up a hurt and defeated partner. 

Natasha isn’t known to playing quiet, so when the words ring through her ears, the hateful and spiteful things those woman send, she can’t back down. None of them are true. She knows that and so should they. 

She strides across the room, her walk quiet and soft across the tiled floor that they never see her coming. The moment she appears next to them, her shadow darkening the corner they were standing in, they startle and look up at her. 

They look small, cowering beneath her gaze and shrinking back. There’s slight fear in their eyes but no remorse or embarrassment at being overheard. She thinks how easy it would be to get her revenge, the flick of her wrist with a knife that’s hidden within her clothes. 

But she’s not that person, not anymore. 

Clint’s told her countless times to use her words, express herself without acting on her baser desires. Years of training are coursing through her, how easy it would to let the widow come out to play. 

“You shouldn’t be talking about things to which you have no knowledge of,” she snarled, leaning towards to two women. 

They look taken aback. One shaking her head quickly ready to renounce her statement but the other, the one with the coffee mug steps forward ready for battle. “We’re only speaking the truth,” she bites back, meeting Natasha eye for eye. 

That only causes her to laugh. “You have no idea to what you’re talking about.” 

“You don’t think we know what you do?” She questions, brow furrowing before continuing on. “We sit behind those desks, we watched him kill that innocent man. He was your mark not a target. And the way he looked afterwards? Where was his remorse?”

They don’t get to see the aftermath of a mission. The falling apart that comes with taking a life, the struggles and nightmares that haunt them. She may be used to death, but he isn’t. Clint was trained from day one to respect life. 

“You’re just trained assassins claiming a false humanity,” the woman continues. 

Natasha’s fingers itch, the woman clearly has a death wish for all the insults she’s throwing around. She steps closer, peering down at the woman and imposing on her personal space. 

“You think you know what we go through? You sit at a desk all day and watch us. You’re not there, you don’t experience the same things as us.” Her voice is harsh, dripping in hatred and disgust. “You claim we have no humanity, no morals, but where is yours?”

She sees the tremble of hands, the look of panic in dark eyes across from her, and the nervous tremor. Natasha powers on, drilling her point in. “You see what we experience, the countless times we put our lives in danger, yet all you feel the need to talk about is a mistake that ended in a life taken. A mistake, might I add, that he had no control over because we were under attack.”

“I-I…”

“You have no right to talk about us in that way, not when you’re under false pretenses and spreading lies. You are a SHIELD analyst, where is your honour and integrity? Where is your humanity?”

The woman stood blank, slightly shaking in place. 

“I’ll be speaking with your supervisor.” And with that, Natasha spun on her heel and walked away. The anger hung around her but the odd sense of power and accomplishment slowly washed over her. 

She would let them talk about her any day, but never would she allow anyone to talk about her partner and best friend in that way. And she was ensured that after that little encounter that the talks surrounding him would be few and far between. 

Natasha rounded the corner, working her way towards the agent housing and the apartment she knew was Clint’s. The familiar door brought relief but the sight she found when she entered the apartment startled her. 

She wasted no time, ignoring the mess made and clothes strewn everywhere, and moved towards the bed to which he was asleep on. There was a light sheen of sweat across his forehead, brows furrowed, with the slight turning, she knew he was having a nightmare. 

Natasha pushed off her shoes and curled into bed behind him. Her arms wrapped around him and she pulled him into her body. She wasn’t sure what he was dreaming of, if it was the most recent failed mission or ones from the past, or if it was of his childhood. It didn’t matter, she just tightened her hold, wishing the demons away.


End file.
